Sometimes things sound cliche. And they are. These patterns that repeat themselves in human behavior and emotion. The games between boys and girls men and women, peoples and nations. Lovers and Haters. All the same whirlwind of bullshit and feelings and nonsense. Every second of it pure Ecstasy. We are just as addicted to the happiness as we are to the pain. Most days a twisted justification of self mutilation. Choosing to be sad, or lonely, or hurt, or wronged, robbed; rather than just existing. Just Existing. See, not that hard. You just did it. Good Job.
Inside every moment, every comprehension and appreciation of every instant is peace.
A year, this past being the worst of my life. 365 days of spiritual discombobulation. One long nightmare. Peppered with a few moments of clarity. The ebb of a tide in typhoon-ed ocean of miserable existence allowing short moments of the air that you know lies just above the surface as you feel every moment of being swallowed by the waves. And then, after the universe reverses every thing you thought you knew and rips every ounce of knowledge out of you, you thought you had, she flings you to the shore. The sand coarse, sharp rocks and the stench of those who didn't take to the water so well. Gasping in smooth salty air. A certain combination of elements. In that moment you choose. You recognize existence.
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